


Trick or treat?

by ravenclawsquill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8385301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawsquill/pseuds/ravenclawsquill
Summary: “Here’s what I’m going to do.” Draco paused to sink his teeth into the tender skin of Harry’s neck, drawing a gasp. “I’m going to make you come right here, through your clothes. Just think, anyone could hear us … or worse, catch us. Can you keep quiet?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [_Melodic_ (Sae)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sae/gifts).



> Written as a birthday gift for the lovely _Melodic_.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Hogwarts always looked fantastic, but never more so than during the week preceding Halloween. Grinning pumpkins lined the hallways, thick cobwebs trailed from every surface, and heaps of crisp amber leaves were strewn across the grounds. This year, much to Filch’s dismay, the students had taken to dressing up the castle’s many statues in all manner of ludicrous costumes. 

Harry had the pleasure of witnessing the decorations in their full glory as he searched the castle; he’d covered almost every inch of the school by the time he found what he was looking for – in the Library, of all places.

Draco Malfoy was stood at the very back of the Restricted Section, his sharp nose buried in an enormous old book. He was worrying his lower lip with his teeth, as he often did when deep in concentration.

Opportunities to catch Draco off guard were few and far between, so Harry decided to take full advantage of his distraction. He took a few moments to stare, then slowly and silently crept closer, until he was stood directly behind Draco.

“Trick or treat?” he whispered, letting his breath ghost across the back of Draco’s neck. 

Draco smirked as he registered what was going on. “Treat, obviously.” He closed his book and turned to face Harry. “Who on earth would choose a trick when there’s a treat on offer?”

Harry grinned. “You’re in luck, then.”

Without further ado, Harry grabbed Draco by the arm and dragged him down the nearest aisle. The book fell from Draco’s hands, hitting the floor with a loud _thump_.

The library was almost deserted and the space between the bookcases was narrow and rather dark – the shelves stretched all the way up to the ceiling – but Harry wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled Draco along to the far end of the aisle and shoved him into the cramped little alcove behind the statue of Uric the Oddball, which had been haphazardly dressed in a rather unconvincing Acromantula costume. 

“What are you—?” Draco’s question was cut short as Harry closed the distance between them and kissed him, hard.

“Missed you,” Harry muttered against Draco’s lips.

Draco pulled back and rolled his eyes. “We had potions together this morning, you idiot.”

“Still missed you.”

“Very romantic, Potter, but I really must— _mmmph!_ ” Harry crushed his mouth to Draco’s once more and swallowed the remainder of his protests, swiping them deftly away with his tongue. 

When they finally broke apart, Draco’s cheeks were flushed pink and his lips were noticeably swollen. Harry’s cock twitched in his pants. This was how he liked to see Draco. He leaned in for another kiss, but Draco’s hands came up to his chest, pushing him back. 

“Potter, if you think I’m going to risk expulsion over a quick snog in the Library, I can assure you that you’re very much mistaken.”

Harry gave Draco his best attempt at a sultry look, pouting slightly as he gazed up through his dark lashes. He felt ridiculous, but it was worth a shot. “Nobody’s going to catch us. They’re all getting ready for the feast. Besides, I’m pretty sure nobody’s ever been expelled over a snog,” he added, lowering the pitch of his voice to a husky growl as he settled his hands on either side of Draco’s waist.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe?” A hint of self-consciousness crept into the word, and Harry knew immediately that he’d made a big mistake.

A predatory grin spread across Draco’s face. Quick as a flash, he escaped Harry’s grip and spun them around, pressing Harry firmly against the wall. “Two can play at that game, Potter.” 

Harry’s cockiness was swept away by a delicious thrill of fear as Draco began to nip at his jawline, his lips catching against the hint of stubble that had cropped up over the course of the day. “G-game?” he stuttered.

Draco’s breath was hot in Harry’s ear, his voice smooth as silk. “Oh, yes,” he purred. “In fact, I can think of an excellent little game that we can play right here…” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Here’s what I’m going to do.” He paused to sink his teeth into the tender skin of Harry’s neck, drawing a gasp. “I’m going to make you come right here, through your clothes. Just think, anyone could hear us … or worse, catch us. Can you keep quiet?” He pulled back and looked intently at Harry, grey eyes glittering.

“What happens if I can?” Harry’s voice came out hoarse, betraying the impact of Draco’s words upon him.

Draco shook his head. “Ever the optimist, Potter. If you manage not to make a sound, I’ll do anything you want.” He ran his fingers lightly down Harry’s body, grazing a nipple. “And I really mean _anything_.”

Harry gulped. That was quite a prize. 

“Perhaps we should cast a _Silencio_? Just in case.”

Draco shook his head. “Definitely not,” he whispered. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Harry desperately tried to think of a response, but Draco was no longer in the mood for conversation. He nudged Harry’s legs apart and insinuated himself between them.

“Draco, stop. This a bad idea—” Harry’s complaints were lost as Draco captured his wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head, holding them firmly in place.

Harry’s heart leapt up into his throat when their hips came together: he could feel the ridge of Draco’s erection through the layers of their clothes. Arousal twisted like a knife in the pit of his stomach, and he thrust against Draco almost involuntarily.

Draco smirked and took a moment adjust the angle, shifting his feet until their bodies lined up perfectly. “Ready?”

Harry nodded fervently; for all of his earlier protests, he was close to begging. His need must have shown on his face, because after a final, maddening pause, Draco relented and rolled his hips experimentally.

The breath left Harry's lungs in a rush at the first spark of pleasure. The teasing had left him hypersensitive and achingly hard, and even through the heavy denim of his jeans, it felt incredible.

Spurred on by Harry’s reaction, Draco began to grind against him, building a steady rhythm, leaning in intermittently to bite and suck at Harry’s neck.

Harry tried to meet Draco’s movements, canting and thrusting his hips, desperately seeking more friction, but it was no use. Draco maintained a slow, regular pace, never easing his insistent pressure against Harry’s cock. The result was a slow-burning surge of sensation, which was both unbearably intense and not nearly enough.

Harry bit his lip in an attempt to stay silent, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Even Draco was struggling to keep quiet; a steady stream of barely audible groans spilled from his lips against Harry’s skin.

The waves of pleasure hit relentlessly, one after another, a blur of blistering heat that radiated all the way down Harry’s thighs. It was suddenly too much, too intense. He could barely stand it.

Then it happened: a harsh moan escaped Harry’s lips, excruciatingly loud against the hushed backdrop of the Library. He hastily turned it into a cough, but it morphed again into a gasp as Draco squeezed his arse, increasing the pressure even more. 

Even through the heady haze of delicious friction, Harry began to panic. Surely someone had heard that. Any moment they would come looking for them, wanting to know what was going on … the thought of what they’d see made Harry’s head swim.

He rutted even more urgently against Draco; their steady rhythm had long since fallen away in favour of desperate grinding. He just had to finish before they were caught. Stopping wasn’t an option.

His breath came in short, sharp gasps. He was so close … just a few more rolls of Draco’s hips … 

Harry’s movements stuttered as he came, burying his face in Draco’s neck in a futile attempt to muffle his moans. The sticky heat of his release soaked through his boxers.

The aftershocks seemed to last forever. He slumped back against the wall and waited for them to end, grateful for Draco’s weight against him, holding him in place. Without it, he suspected he’d have fallen to the floor.

As the pleasure ebbed, unease crept in. “Someone will definitely have heard that,” he said gravely, trying to peer around Uric the Oddball’s many hairy legs for any sign of an audience.

He was so busy worrying that it took him a moment to realise that Draco was laughing, piercing the fragile silence of the Library with sharp bursts of sound. 

“Shut up!” Harry hissed, shoving him as far back as he could – which wasn't very, given the small size of the alcove. “What’s so funny?”

It took Draco almost a full minute to compose himself. “Did you not stop to wonder why I just happened to be waiting in the darkest, quietest corner of the Library on a Saturday evening?” he asked eventually, his pale eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Harry blinked. “But … what?”

“And do you really think I’d do _that_ without a cast-iron Silencing Charm? I’ve got the whole Restricted Section covered! My only concern was whether it would last … it took you so long to find me…”

Relief swept through Harry’s veins, rendering his already shaky legs even more useless. He slipped several inches down the wall. “You sneaky git.”

Draco grinned. “I try.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping it neatly back into place. “Anyway, I think we can both agree that I won the game. And you know what that means, don’t you Potter?”

“...That I’ll do anything you want?”

“Got it in one.” Draco raked his eyes down Harry’s body, lingering for a moment on the damp patch at the crotch of Harry’s jeans. “But first, a shower. You can’t turn up to the feast looking like that. I’ll meet you in the Prefects’ bathroom in ten minutes.”

With that, he edged his way out of the tight little nook and stalked off, leaving Harry slumped heavily against the wall, his mouth hanging open.

“Bloody Slytherin,” he muttered to himself.


End file.
